


Inconceivable

by CarrieL



Category: Princess Bride (1987), Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12845283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrieL/pseuds/CarrieL
Summary: This is true love. You think this happens every day?





	1. True Love

Kathryn Janeway was raised on a small farm in the federal unit of Indiana. Her favorite pastimes were tennis and quantum mechanics. She grew up to become a Starfleet captain whose new ship, Voyager, was tragically lost in the Delta Quadrant on its first mission. There, Captain Janeway discovered the joy of tormenting her new first officer, Chakotay. Nothing gave Janeway as much pleasure as ordering Chakotay around. 

“Organize the crew rota,” she would say to him. Or: “Take a shuttle and survey that nebula for useful elements.”

“Aye, Captain,” was all he ever said to her. But one day, as Chakotay was climbing into a shuttle to leave on yet another arduous mission, Janeway was amazed to discover that when he was saying, "Aye, Captain," what he meant was, "I love you." And even more amazing was the day when Janeway realized she truly loved him back. 

Chakotay knew that they couldn’t be together while Janeway was still mourning her lost fiancé Mark, so he went off to do battle with the Kazon, a species that was constantly threatening Voyager. It was a very emotional time for Janeway.

“I’m afraid I’ll never see you again,” she told Chakotay as he prepared to launch his shuttle.

“Of course you will.”

“But what if something happens to you?”

“Hear this now,” Chakotay said. “I will come for you.”

“But how can you be sure?” Janeway asked.

“This is true love. You think this happens every day?” 

Chakotay didn’t reach his destination. His shuttle was attacked by Mag Riga, who never left captives alive. When Janeway got the news that Chakotay was murdered, she went into her Ready Room and for days she neither slept nor ate. The devastation of losing first Mark, then Chakotay, was too much. “I will never love again,” she told her friend and new first officer, Tuvok.

Five years later, Voyager was crossing a sector controlled by the ruthless Borg. They captured Janeway and insisted that she would become their queen. Although she would be allowed to maintain her individuality rather than merging completely with the Collective and as Queen would have vast power, Janeway’s emptiness consumed her at the idea. It was a fate worse than death. The only joy she found was in transwarp travel to survey what would be her realm as soon as the ascension ceremony took place.

On one of these trips, made alone as Janeway always requested - the Borg had embedded a tracking device in her spine to ensure her return - she stopped on an uncharted M class planet with a small marketplace and watched noisy bartering taking place on every side. After the silence of space the hubbub was deafening and Janeway rode out across the sand dunes on her speeder to take in a view to the horizon. While she was alone at the top of a rise, watching the sky, three men approached, dressed as traders. One of them was tiny and smiling. The next was dark and stern, with an unfamiliar weapon on his belt. The third was gargantuan, a humanoid creature with gentle features, who looked as if he’d be able to carry his companions and Janeway without strain. Nothing about them looked threatening and she felt no alarm as the small one came up to her.

“A word, my lady,” he said. “We are but poor, lost traders. Is there a colony nearby?”

“There is nothing nearby. Not for kilometers,” Janeway answered.

“Then there will be no one to hear you scream,” he said and nodded to the large creature, who reached out one long arm and put a hand on Janeway’s neck. It was the last thing she remembered before waking up, sore and cold, on the metal decking of a badly illuminated spaceship bridge. Her three captors were bent over a display screen, ignoring her completely. When she moved, the pain of a recently healed incision at the back of her neck told her that her kidnappers had removed the Borg tracking device. 

Janeway shook her head to clear it and crawled backward, crablike, through an open hatch, then got to her feet and moved more quickly along a corridor until she came to what appeared to be a tiny escape pod. The hatch opened with a squeak that they must surely have heard on the bridge, but Janeway hopped inside, secured the hatch, activated the launch controls and was away before anyone could stop her. She was scanning the inside of the pod for navigational controls when the jerk of a tractor beam slammed her sideways. Janeway groaned and stretched to look out the viewport, where instead of the near-derelict vessel she’d awakened aboard, she saw, to her horror, a Vidian vessel hauling her in, no doubt for the purpose of harvesting her organs. Desperately she began to open the few small hatches in the pod in search of something to use as a weapon. Nothing.

Just as the Vidians were about to settle the pod on one of their docking ports, a powerful explosion rocked their ship and the tractoring force shut down, only to be replaced an instant later by another tractor beam pulling in the opposite direction. Braced inside the pod, Janeway found herself sucked back into her original captors’ ship, which jumped to warp the instant it had secured her pod. 

Three faces peeked in when the hatch opened. “I suppose you think you’re brave,” the small one said.

“Only compared to some,” Janeway snapped. “Am I allowed to know who my kidnappers are?”

“My name is Vici,” he answered. “I’m the brains of the operation. These two are just the muscle – you can call them Veni” – he gestured to the stiff one – “and Vidi” – with a nod at the huge one.

“I came, I saw, I conquered,” Janeway said as she scrambled out of her uncomfortable squat inside the pod onto the slightly less cramped cargo bay, still far smaller than Voyager’s. “I never expected to meet a classicist in the Delta Quadrant.”

“I specialize in the unexpected,” Vici said with a smirk.

Veni had turned away to check a monitor. “There’s a ship behind us. I think they’re getting closer. It must be the Vidians.”

“They’re no concern of ours,” Vici said. “Maintain course.”

“Look!” Veni said urgently. “They’re right on top of us. I wonder if they’re using the same slipstream we’re using.”

“They’re too late,” Vici said. “See? The Loca Asteroid Field. Only Vidi’s strength at the helm will allow us to go to manual navigation and slingshot around the big rocks to safety. They’ll have to circumnavigate. It will take them days. Quickly! Everyone to the bridge!”

With Veni and Vidi holding her elbows, Janeway ran to the bridge and marveled as Vidi began a precision manual steering exercise, around and behind enormous chunks of rock, only possible for a creature of incredible strength – or normally, a sophisticated computer.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Janeway said to Veni. “Our technology all but eliminates any advantage from physical strength. But it lacks this kind of precision.”

“It’s an unusual ship,” Veni said as Vici shouted at the viewscreen and pounded his fist on the bulkhead. “I don’t know how to explain the physics of it except to say that they work – with Vidi as pilot.” He paused to look more carefully at the viewscreen. “They’ve entered the asteroid field. And they’re gaining on us.”

“Inconceivable!” shouted Vici. He gave Vidi a shove and their trajectory picked up a little speed. “Faster!”

“I thought I was going faster,” Vidi said.

“You were this colossus – this great legendary thing. And still they gain!”

“Well, I’m steering manually and they’re using computers.”

“I don’t accept excuses! I’m just going to have to find another Creuixan, that’s all.”

“Don’t say that, Vici. Please.”

TBC...


	2. The Six-Fingered Man

Finally free of the asteroid field but staggering from several impacts that caused damage to the hull, the little ship carrying Janeway and the others descended into the atmosphere of a densely wooded M-class planet a few parsecs away, where the only known population was a pre-warp agricultural society. Janeway stood watching the sensors, where the trailing ship was still visible. When Vici noticed, he gasped.

“They weren’t destroyed? Inconceivable!”

Veni’s head popped up from where he was focused on deploying landing gear. “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” He looked at the display screen himself. “My God! They’re landing.” He rushed back to the controls to complete the landing sequence. The ship settled onto solid ground with a muffled thud.

“Whoever they are,” Vici said, “they obviously know we have Captain Janeway and therefore must die.” He pointed to Vidi. “You, carry her.” Then to Veni. “We’ll head straight for the Gellan frontier. Catch up when they’re dead. If they crash and burn, fine. If not, the velkot.”

Veni nodded and fingered the fierce multi-bladed weapon hanging from his belt. “I want to duel them left-handed.”

“You know what a hurry we’re in,” Vici said.

“Well, it’s the only way I can be satisfied. If I use my right – over too quickly.”

“Oh, have it your way,” Vici snapped and shoved open the hatch to reveal mild weather and a clear sky.

Vidi shrugged and smiled politely at Janeway before lifting her onto his massive shoulder and ducking out the main hatch to follow Vici into the forest. He paused once outside and turned back to Veni. “You be careful. People who follow you through asteroid fields cannot be trusted.”

“I’m waiting!” came Vici’s impatient shout and Vidi hurried away.

Moments after Vici, Vidi, and Janeway disappeared, a spacecraft broke through the cloud cover, smoking and hissing as if its entry into the planet’s atmosphere had gone badly. Veni stayed inside his ship’s protective hull as he watched the other ship bounce from one rock outcrop to another before finally skidding to rest a few hundred meters from him. When all motion ceased, Veni rushed over to check for signs of life with a handheld sensor. There was only one life sign, a humanoid creature with strong vitals. Already Veni could hear the survivor banging away at the inside of the damaged ship. The mangled hatch opened a crack but wouldn’t swing wide. The creature inside – the ship looked Kazon and Veni was on guard - began to work at it with a long metal bar.

“Hello there,” Veni shouted.

The Kazon – if that was what he was – only grunted. All Veni could see of him was that he wore black and had a mask across his face. What was visible didn’t look Kazon, especially not around the head.

“Slow going?” Veni asked.

“I don’t mean to be rude," came the creature's surprisingly soft voice, "but this isn't as easy as it looks. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“I do not suppose you could speed things up?” asked Veni.

“If you’re in such a hurry, you could find a pry bar and work at getting this hatch open from the outside.”

“I could do that. In fact, I’ve got tools in my ship. But I do not think that you will accept my help, since I am only waiting around to kill you,” Veni said.

“That does put a damper on our relationship.” The creature gave a great wrench and the door creaked a few centimeters closer to open.

“But I promise I will not kill you until you get outside.”

“That’s very comforting. But I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait.”

“I hate waiting,” Veni said thoughtfully. “I could give you my word as a Selopat.”

“No good,” said the sweating creature. “I don’t know what a Selopat is.”

“It’s my species. We are – no, you’re right, we are not very trustworthy. What are you?”

“What species? We call ourselves human. You’d call me a man,” said the man. “We’re from the Alpha quadrant.”

“What’s the Alpha quadrant?” Veni asked. “Never mind, it doesn't matter. You don’t know any way you’ll trust me?”

“Nothing comes to mind.”

Veni considered this for a moment. Then his face changed, he put his hand on the velkot, and he said, “I swear on the soul of my father, Delo Montikot, you will get outside alive.”

The man hesitated a moment. Then he said quietly, “Get your tools.” Veni did so and in a few minutes the man stumbled out of the open hatch, panting from his effort. Immediately he pulled a long Kazon knife from his belt and faced Veni, ready to fight.

“Thank you,” the man said, even as he assumed a dueling stance.

“We’ll wait until you’re ready,” Veni said.

“Again, thank you.” The man lowered himself to the ground and took deep breaths. Now Veni saw that the man wore black from head to toe, including black gloves.

“I do not mean to pry, but you don’t by any chance happen to have six fingers on your hands?” Veni asked.

The man opened his eyes and blinked in confusion. “Do you always begin conversations this way?”

“My father was slaughtered by a six-fingered man – a species similar to yours, although I can’t be sure if he was human. He was a great velkot maker, my father. And when the six-fingered man appeared at an interplanetary bazaar and requested a special velkot, my father took the job. He slaved a year before it was done.”

The man held up his hands to show five fingers on each. Veni handed his magnificently crafted weapon to the man, who examined it from every angle and said with admiration, “I have never seen its equal. Although I know of a Klingon weapon that you ought to see one day.”

“The six-fingered man returned and demanded it, but at one-tenth his promised price. My father refused. Without a word, the six-fingered man slashed him through the heart. I loved my father, so, naturally, I challenged his murderer to a traditional velkot duel. I failed. The six-fingered man left me alive with the velkot, but he gave me these.” Veni stroked long scars on his yellow face.

“How old were you?” the man asked.

“I was eleven years old. When I was strong enough, I dedicated my life to the study of the velkot. The next time we meet, I will not fail. I will go up to the six-fingered man and say, ‘Hello, my name is Veni Montikot. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’”

“You’ve done nothing but study velkot fighting?”

“More pursue than study. You see, I cannot find him. It’s been twenty years now. I am starting to lose confidence. I just work for Vici to pay the bills. There’s not a lot of money in revenge.”

The man handed back the beautiful velkot and got to his feet. “Well, I certainly hope you find him, someday.”

“You are ready, then?” Veni asked.

“Whether I am or not, you’ve been more than fair.”

“You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you.”

The man tossed the Kazon blade from right hand to left in a move of smooth proficiency. “You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.”

“Begin!” shouted Veni.

TBC


	3. No one of consequence

The duel waged by these two masters using a Selopatan velkot against a Kazon saber – both wickedly sharp and curved, with the added threat of pronged crosspieces – was an act of performance art and athleticism for the ages. At last, when both were nearly exhausted and clearly matched in skill, they paused, panting.

“Who are you?” Veni asked.

“No one of consequence.”

“I must know.”

“Get used to disappointment,” said his opponent. With a great lunge, the man in black seized the advantage of his greater height and strength to disarm Veni at last. The velkot flew from his hands and lodged in a tree trunk several meters away, well beyond reach. The tip of the Kazon saber touched Veni’s neck and he dropped to his knees.

“Kill me quickly,” he said.

“I would as soon destroy a Vulcan vase as an artist like yourself. However, since I can’t have you following me either - ” answered the man in black and quickly knocked Veni unconscious with the blunt end of the saber. “Please understand, I hold you in the highest regard.” In the same breath, he was running in the direction Vici, Vidi, and Janeway had departed, the only visible trail into the forest.

From well up on a rock outcrop they’d been climbing for the last half hour, Vici watched the man in black advance in their direction. “Inconceivable!”

Vidi stood beside him with Janeway over his shoulder. She wore a blindfold and every few minutes struggled again against the restraints around her wrists. Vidi simply resettled her in a different position each time and took little notice of her kicks and twists.

“Give her to me,” Vici demanded. Vidi set Janeway on her feet. Vici grabbed the metal restraint that held her arms together in front of her and yanked so that she began to follow him. “Catch up with us quickly.”

“What do I do?” Vidi asked, baffled.

“Finish him. Finish him, your way.”

“Oh good, my way. Thank you, Vici,” Vidi said and scratched his head. “Which way is my way?”

Vici pointed to large boulders along the edge of the trail. “Pick up one of those rocks, get behind the boulder, and in a few minutes, the Vidian or whoever he is will run around the bend. Smash him with the rock!” Vici sighed heavily with the obviousness of it all and towed Janeway after him as he rushed out of sight around the next bend.

“My way is not very sportsmanlike,” Vidi said to himself. He picked up a rock, but when the man in black appeared, he tossed it underhand, giving the man plenty of time to dodge. Vidi picked up another rock and they faced each other.

“I did that on purpose,” Vidi said. “I don’t have to miss.”

“I believe you. So what happens now?”

“We face each other as the Ancient Ones intended. No tricks, no weapons, skill against skill alone.”

Realizing there was no choice, the man in black lay down his saber and began to circle Vidi to begin what would be a very unequal combat.

“Why do you wear a mask?” Vidi asked as the man in black scrambled away from Vidi’s attempt to snatch him up in his arms. “Do you have the phage or something?”

“No, it’s just comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them soon.”

Vidi lunged again and the man in black dove between his legs. After several blows proved that Vidi was impervious, the man in black tried wrestling holds, forms of martial arts designed to throw a larger opponent off balance, and finally a form of simple hypnosis used to calm wild animals. Vidi blinked, wagged his great head, and slowly closed his eyes. After several minutes Vidi released a massive snore, fell to his knees, then collapsed in a great sleeping lump on the ground.

The man in black relaxed and patted the creature he’d just subdued. “Finally one of my Indian tricks works,” he said. With a sudden renewal of strength, he snatched up his saber and hurried off along the trail.

#

Back at the site of the duel with Veni, a team of three Borg drones examined the scene.

“What happened, Four of Six?” asked the shortest drone, who followed the other two.

“There was a battle,” said the tallest, gesturing to the others to follow. He had an enhanced vocal processor and spoke more easily than his companions. “Two bipedal species. Designations … inconclusive.”

“Who won?” asked the third drone.

Four of Six studied the readings on his handheld sensor. “The loser ran off alone. The winner followed those footprints toward Gellan. Two and Three of Six, follow me. Only Janeway matters. We must retrieve her.”

The drones left the clearing at a quick trot.

#

Gaining the top of a green ridge where the forest fell away to reveal a long and beautiful vista toward an inland sea, the man in black suddenly saw Vici and Janeway seated several meters away at a small table laid with food and drink. Janeway was still blindfolded and her wrist restraint was attached to the table with a spike. Vici pointed a phaser at her and leered.

“So it is down to you. And it is down to me,” he said. The man in black advanced. “If you wish her dead,” Vici said, “by all means keep moving forward.” He prodded Janeway’s neck with the weapon and she recoiled as its prongs poked her skin above her captain’s pips.

“Let me explain,” the man in black said.

“There’s nothing to explain. You’re trying to kidnap what I’ve rightfully stolen.”

“Perhaps an arrangement can be reached.” The man in black took a more cautious step forward.

“There will be no arrangement – and you’re killing her!” Vici’s hand covered the phaser’s trigger and the man in black froze.

“But if there can be no arrangement, we’re at an impasse.

“I’m afraid so. I can’t compete with you physically and you’re no match for my brains.”

“You’re that smart?” The man in black tilted his head in curiosity.

“Let me put it this way. You’ve heard of the Q?”

“Yes.”

“Morons.”

“Really? In that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits.”

“For the captain?”

The man in black nodded.

“To the death?”

He nodded again.

“I accept.”

The man in black approached the table. “Good. Then pour the wine.”

TBC


	4. Aye, Captain

As Vici poured, the man in black removed a paper envelope from his pocket and handed it to Vici.

“Smell this, but don’t touch.”

Vici waved it under his nose. “I smell nothing.”

“What you don’t smell is leola root. It is odorless, dissolves instantly, and is among the deadlier poisons for most humanoid species.”

Janeway twitched but said nothing. The man in black took the envelope and the goblets, turned away from Vici, then turned back with the goblets and the empty envelope. “All right. Where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide, we both drink, and we find out who is right and who is dead.”

Vici commenced a long monologue, teasing and mocking the man in black, trying to trick him into revealing which goblet was poisoned. When nothing worked, Vici cried out in amazement, pointed and shouted, “What in the world can that be?”

The man in black turned around. “What? Where? I don’t see anything.”

“Oh, well – I thought I saw something. Never mind,” said Vici, beaming at the goblets he’d just switched. “But enough of this. Let’s drink.” He lifted the goblet nearest him and raised it in a toast to the man in black, who copied him.

Vici had no sooner taken a sip of wine than Janeway intuited from the silence that this was her chance, yanked a hand out of the restraint she’d managed to pick while Vidi carried her, grabbed the phaser, and stunned Vici. She ripped off her blindfold as the man in black rose to observe Vici lying on the ground.

“If I’d known you were about to do that I wouldn’t have drugged him,” he said.

Janeway looked at Vici in surprise. “You drugged him? I thought you said it was deadly poison.” Her face grew puzzled. “But then you also said it was leola root, which I know is harmless.” She leaned over to check Vici’s pulse. It was slow but steady. “What did you actually give him?”

“It was leola root. I bent the truth a little. It's harmless to most species, and for others - like his species, the Elebel - it has a powerful soporific effect. Most of them have never encountered it. He’ll sleep for days.”

Janeway got to her feet and considered him more closely. There was something familiar about him, but no way she could know him. “Who are you?” she asked.

“No one to be trifled with, that is all you ever need know.” With a lightning fast movement the man in black knocked the phaser from her hand and snatched it up. He tucked the weapon into his vest, took Janeway by the wrist and began to tow her behind him. Janeway yanked away.

“Where are you going? Why should I follow you?”

The man in black put a hand to the hilt of his saber. “I can point a weapon at you if you’d prefer.”

“If you’ll release me, whatever you ask for ransom, you’ll get it, I promise you.”

The man’s lip curled. “And what is that worth, the promise of a Starfleet officer? You’re very funny, Captain.”

“What do you know about Starfleet?” Janeway demanded.

“More than enough.”

“I was giving you a chance. No matter where you take me … the Borg control almost the entire quadrant. They can find you.”

“You think your precious collective will save you?”

“I never said it was my collective. And yes, they will save me. That I know.”

“You admit you feel no loyalty to the Borg?” he asked.

“They know I feel no loyalty to them.”

“Are not capable of loyalty is what you mean.”

“I have known greater loyalty and love than a killer like yourself could ever dream.”

The man in black raised his fist. Janeway flinched but held her ground.

“That was a warning, Captain. I will not be lied to.” He grabbed her arm and they were off at a run.

After many miles, the man in black released Janeway at the edge of a steep ravine. She fell hard to the ground, exhausted. “Rest,” he said.

“Can I know the name of my new captor?” she asked as soon as she regained her breath.

“They call me Mag Riga,” he said and offered a graceful bow.

“Mag Riga?” she repeated in disbelief. “If you’re Mag Riga, you can die slowly cut into a thousand pieces.”

“Hardly diplomatic, Captain. Why loose your venom on me?”

She looked away and said quietly, “You killed my love.”

The man in black changed his balance to face her more fully. “It’s possible. I kill a lot of people. Who was this love of yours? A Borg, some pile of bolts and circuits?”

“No. A Maquis. A rebel fighter. A spiritual man, with eyes like the forest at night. He went after the Kazon, to protect our ship from constant threats. Your sect attacked, and Mag Riga never takes prisoners.”

The man in black crossed his arms. “I can’t afford to make exceptions. Once word leaks out that a mag has gone soft, people begin to disobey you, and then it’s nothing but work, work, work, all the time.”

“You mock my pain!” Janeway shouted angrily.

“Life is pain, Captain. Anyone who says differently is selling something. I remember this rebel of yours, I think. This was what, five years ago?”

Janeway nodded.

The man in black tilted his head to observe the anguish on her face more carefully. “Does it bother you to hear?”

“Nothing you can say will upset me.”

“He died well, that should please you. No bribe attempts or blubbering. He simply said, ‘Please. Please, I need to live.’ It was the ‘please’ that caught my memory. I asked him what was so important for him. True love, he replied. Then he spoke of a woman of surpassing beauty, bravery, and wisdom. I can only assume he meant you. You should bless me for destroying him before he found out what you really are.”

“And what am I?”

“Bravery he spoke of, madam, and your abiding wisdom. Now, tell me truly. When you found out he was gone, did you sell out to the Borg that same hour, or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?”

Janeway jumped to her feet. “You mocked me once, never do it again. I died that day!”

A dust cloud on the horizon distracted the man in black. He raised his head to see the three trailing Borg charge over the most distant ridge. While his attention was elsewhere, Janeway charged. “You can die too for all I care!” She shoved him hard over the edge of the ravine and watched in satisfaction as he tumbled down. At last his cry came back to her.

“Aye, Captain!”

“Oh my sweet Chakotay, what have I done?” Janeway clapped a hand to her heart, then in an instant of sudden decision, threw herself down the ravine after him.

TBC


	5. Singed a bit?

Chakotay and Janeway lay motionless on the floor of the ravine beside the ribbon of water that trickled into dark forest several hundred meters downstream. They lay this way for several minutes, not even conscious enough to moan, until Chakotay forced himself to his hands and knees, threw away his torn mask, and crawled toward Janeway.

“Can you move?” he asked.

Janeway stretched out an arm with a painful gasp to touch his face. “Move? You’re alive. If you want, I can fly.”

“I told you I’d always come for you. Why didn’t you wait?” Chakotay asked as he settled himself into a position where he could study her face without resting directly on his worst bruises.

Janeway blinked in puzzlement. “You were dead. I had to get the crew home.”

“Death can’t stop true love,” he whispered. “All it can do is delay it for a while.”

Janeway smiled. “I’ll never doubt again.”

“There will never be a need.” Chakotay rose up on one elbow with a grimace and lowered his head to hers for the kiss he’d waited for the last five years. Janeway lifted her head to meet his lips in a tender kiss full of emotion that grew more intense until they rolled onto their sorer parts and both cried out in pain.

“What I wouldn’t give for an emergency medical hologram with an attitude right now,” Janeway said.

“I’ve missed him many times.” Sudden movement at the top of the ravine distracted Chakotay from his injuries as three Borg appeared, outlined against the brighter light above. “Ha. Your Borg entourage is too late. A few more steps and we’ll be safe in the Fire Swamp.” He grabbed Janeway’s hand and they scrambled groaning to their feet.

“What’s the Fire Swamp?” she asked.

“A little adventure,” Chakotay answered in a cavalier tone. Something in his face made Janeway hesitate an instant, but the sight of the Borg above gave her legs strength and she hurried along with Chakotay toward the wall of black trees and moss. The moment they passed the border of the first few trees, the canopy above blocked the daylight, as if twilight had fallen instantly. Chakotay pulled his Kazon blade and began to hack vines out of their path.

“It’s not that bad,” he said. Janeway looked at him incredulously. “I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually beautiful.”

As he spoke, a giant tongue of flame shot up next to Janeway, lighting her jacket on fire. Chakotay threw her to the ground and rolled on top of the flames. When the fire was finally extinguished they found themselves lying tightly wrapped together, Chakotay half on top, their noses nearly touching. Their eyes locked and for an instant the attraction they felt almost drew them together in spite of the dangers all around, but Chakotay took himself in hand and pushed away.

“That was an adventure,” he said as he helped Janeway up. She examined the hole left in her jacket while Chakotay brushed away the burnt bits of his vest. “Singed a bit?”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“You’d say that if you’d just had your legs torn off by a Traken beast,” Chakotay answered with a grin, but he took her hand and they continued deeper into the forest, jumping to one side as another flame spouted right beside them.

After a few hours of walking they no longer encountered flame spurts and began to feel a little more at ease. “Soon this will be just a happy memory," Chakotay said. "That was my runabout shuttle that crashed. Mag Riga’s real ship is hidden on the far side of the Fire Swamp, and as you now know, I’m Mag Riga.”

“But how is that possible,” Janeway asked, “when he was the terror of the star system surrounding the Array for the last twenty years and you only left us five years ago?”

“I’m often surprised myself at life’s little quirks,” Chakotay said. “You see, what I told you about saying ‘please’ was true. It intrigued Mag Riga, as did my description of your bravery, wisdom, and beauty. Finally Riga said ‘Okay, Chakotay. I’ve never had a valet. You can try it for tonight. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’ Three years he said that. ‘Good night, Chakotay. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’ It was a good time for me. I was learning to fight with the weapons of the Delta Quadrant, studying star charts, anything anyone would teach me. And Riga and I eventually became friends. Then it happened.”

“What?” asked Janeway, keeping her eyes on the thorny vines grabbing at them on all sides.

“Riga had grown so rich, he wanted to retire. He took me to his cabin and told me his secret. ‘I am not Mag Riga,’ he said. ‘My name is Kndao. I inherited this ship from the previous Mag Riga, just as you’ll inherit it from me. The man I inherited it from wasn’t the real Mag Riga either. His name was Dhoeiwed. The real Riga has been retired fifteen years and living like a king in a biosphere on the far side of the Ocampa home world.’ Then he explained that the name was the important thing for inspiring the necessary fear. You see, no one would surrender to Mag Chakotay.

“We landed at a neutral spaceport, took on an entirely new crew with few Kazon, and Riga stayed aboard for a while as first mate, all the time calling me Riga. Once the crew believed, he left and I’ve been Riga ever since. Except, now that we’re together, I’ll retire and hand over the name to someone else. Is all that clear?”

Janeway, thinking deeply over what Chakotay had just told her, took a few steps away from the faint trail they’d been following with great difficulty. With one more step, the ground beneath her swallowed her up. Chakotay stood staring in horror at the spot where Janeway had been. Thinking fast, he hacked a vine in two, checked its firm attachment to the nearest tree, and holding fast to the vine, dove headfirst into the sands that had taken Janeway.

Minutes later, two hands shot out of the sand – one small, one large – grasped the vine, and tugged until two heads appeared. Hand over hand, gasping and coughing, Janeway and Chakotay towed themselves out onto solid ground, covered in powdery sand.

Spitting out sand, Janeway croaked, “How much farther to the other side?”

“We’re nearly there,” Chakotay said confidently, even as he made eye contact with a massive, fanged creature lurking in the tree above. “We’ve survive the fire and the sands and now it’s just a quick dash to - ” but before he could finish the sentence, the hairy, stinking, vicious creature from the tree had jumped onto him with all six paws and went for his neck on both sides, using both its heads.

Janeway snatched Chakotay’s long Kazon knife from his belt and raised it above the creature’s heads to strike, but fear of taking off Chakotay’s head too made her hesitate. In that instant, the beast sense the threat from her and abandoned Chakotay to sink all its teeth into Janeway’s right arm. She fell and began to thrash and kick in a desperate attempt to get away. Bloodied but intact, Chakotay jumped up and saw the fire spout beginning just to Janeway’s right, inches from the attacking beast. With a cry Chakotay dropped to the ground and used both legs to shove the beast into the flames while yanking Janeway to safety with both hands.

The beast shrieked, writhed, and tried to creep away, but Chakotay grabbed the knife and put it through one head, then the other. The creature died with merciful speed. Janeway sat leaning against Chakotay’s leg, clutching her wounded arm. He knelt beside her and she exclaimed at the blood on his neck, but the wounds were shallow. With concern, Chakotay examined the deeper punctures in her arm.

“I know a healer in the nearest village,” he said. “We’re nearly there.” Janeway nodded and they staggered forward toward the light already visible on the far side of the forest.

TBC


	6. Resistance is futile

Janeway and Chakotay stepped clear of the forest’s gloom to find a sparkling bay spreading in the distance. They took a few eager steps toward the water before a sound to their left stopped them both cold. Their heads turned in slow unison to see their three Borg pursuers lined up not ten meters away, where they’d plainly been waiting for their prey to leave the Fire Swamp.

“Resistance is futile,” said Four of Six. “Assimilation will commence.”

“You mean you want us to assimilate you?” Chakotay asked. “Okay. Follow me to my ship and we’ll take care of it.”

Janeway rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over this. There is an understanding. I will not be assimilated.”

“The agreement is only with you,” Four of Six answered. “The male will be assimilated.”

“But how will you capture us?” Chakotay said. “We know the secrets of the Fire Swamp. We can live there happily for some time. Whenever you feel like dying, feel free to visit.”

Four of Six began to walk forward. Janeway looked around and spotted the Borg reinforcements who’d landed while she and Chakotay traversed the Fire Swamp and now stood waiting in the shadows of a nearby clump of trees. There was no escape.

“Assimilation will commence!” Four of Six repeated, raising a wicked whirring attachment at the end of his left arm.

Chakotay waved the Kazon blade. “Death first!”

Janeway stepped in front of Chakotay. “Will you promise not to hurt him?”

Four of Six and the other two members of his team stopped. “What?” he asked.

“What?” Chakotay echoed.

“If I come with you, will you promise not to hurt this man, return him to his ship and let him go?”

“Agreed,” said Four of Six.

Janeway spun around to face Chakotay, who was staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Kathryn, what are you doing?”

She put a hand on his chest, her face streaked with mud and soot and her uniform mostly shredded. “I thought you were dead once and it almost destroyed me. I couldn’t bear it if you died again, not when I can save you.”

Chakotay could only gape as Janeway reluctantly turned her back on him and marched away surrounded by the large contingent of Borg that suddenly emerged from the trees. As he watched her disappear over the nearest hill, Four of Six stepped forward and Chakotay’s lip curled into a sneer.

“I didn’t know Borg could lie,” he said.

“Truth is irrelevant,” Four of Six replied. “We obtained Janeway’s compliance. You will be assimilated.”

Chakotay cocked his head and looked more closely at the Borg. “You have six fingers on your hands.”

Four of Six hissed in answer as his assimilation tubules shot into Chakotay’s neck. A moment later, Chakotay collapsed at his feet.

#

When Chakotay awoke and blinked his eyes open against the fog in his head, a green light surrounded him. He’d never seen a Borg assimilation chamber, but he’d bet his last emergency ration that this was what one looked like. He lay naked on a table, a few implants already visible on his hands. The rest of him, however, was still human. A single Borg stood at a panel on the far side of the chamber, tapping in commands that meant nothing to Chakotay. The Borg could be planning an attack or playing chess.

Chakotay looked around for some kind of weapon but the space was bare except for evil-looking tools attached to cables suspended above him. If he could figure out how to activate one of them, he thought, maybe he could catch his guard by surprise and … the guard turned around.

“Where am I?” Chakotay asked, before the Borg could start using those tools to take off his hand or worse.

“An assimilation chamber,” the Borg said in a low, croaking voice that suggested speaking wasn’t normally one of his assigned tasks. “Resistance is futile.”

“So I’ve heard,” Chakotay said. He sat up. “What are you planning to do with me?” As long as the Borg kept talking, there would be no dismemberment, and maybe some chance to gain an advantage.

“There are standard steps. Spinal clamps. Cerebral implants. Then you’ll be evaluated for specialized equipment.”

“What sort of specialized equipment?”

The Borg gestured to a cabinet where mechanical Borg body parts sat on shelves: ocular implants, mechanical hands, lower arms with other attachments where a hand would have been. Chakotay shivered and looked down at his own hands, his vulnerable bare body, so perfectly defenseless.

#

At the same moment, Janeway aimlessly wandered a corridor of the Borg sphere that orbited the planet, awaiting further orders. Four and Three of Six watched her from several junctions back.

“Soon she will be Queen,” Four of Six said, “and the collective will be rejuvenated. The power outages will stop.”

“Understood,” Three of Six answered with a perplexed look but Four of Six was already moving forward.

“Her regeneration cycles are disrupted. Her – sleep – is inadequate. She will not be able to restore the collective in this condition.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Janeway said suddenly, stopping to spin around and face Four of Six. “Stop talking about me like I’m your lab rat.”

“Lab rat?”

“Never mind. You don’t understand what it’s like, these nightmares. An old woman is shouting at me that I had true love and I gave it up. It’s – unbearable. I need an audience with the Queen.” Janeway pushed past Four of Six and followed a different corridor to a room with a glowing round screen where the weak, flickering image of the current Borg queen appeared as if summoned by Janeway herself.

“Captain Janeway,” the Queen said in a voice that was less soothing than fading. Four and Three of Six exchanged glances. “We await your ascendance with great anticipation. My time is nearly done.”

Janeway spread her feet, put her hands on her hips, and faced the Queen squarely. “It comes to this,” she said. “I love Chakotay. I have since long before I promised to become your queen. I know now I always will. If you tell me I must become Queen, please believe I will be dead by morning.”

On screen, the Queen’s image wavered. She appeared to be holding onto a post to stay upright. She looked down, then raised her glowing eyes to look at Janeway. “I could never cause you grief. You are unique and ... precious to us. Consider your ascension … canceled.” Her gaze shifted to Four of Six. “You returned Chakotay to his ship?”

“Yes.”

“Then we will simply alert him. But Captain, are you certain he still wants you? After all, you left him at the edge of the Fire Swamp. And humans aren’t known for their faithfulness.”

“Chakotay will always come for me,” Janeway said.

“I suggest a deal. We’ll send out a message from you on all subspace frequencies. If Chakotay wants you, we’ll send you on your way. If not … the collective needs you. You will honor your original promise. Agreed?”

Janeway dropped her hands to her sides and slowly nodded.

TBC


	7. When will you humans learn patience?

As soon as Janeway had gone, the door of the chamber closed to leave Four of Six alone with the Queen’s image.

“You have chosen appropriately,” Four of Six said. “She will be a strong leader for the collective.”

“Her leadership ability is irrelevant. As soon as she accepts her new role and the transition is complete, I will absorb her synaptic energy to restore myself to full strength. Captain Janeway is a small, insignificant sacrifice to ensure continuity.”

“Understood,” Four of Six answered without a flicker of emotion. The door opened and he left the chamber to rejoin Three of Six, waiting outside.

“We must complete the assimilation of the other humanoid,” said Three of Six and pointed in the direction of the assimilation chamber where Chakotay lay restrained.

“I am unable to assist.” Four of Six turned the other way. “Captain Janeway requires monitoring.”

“We both require regeneration.”

“There is no time,” said Four of Six and marched away. Three of Six continued on his way. Inside the assimilation chamber, another Borg was fitting armor to Chakotay’s legs.

“What is your designation?” Three of Six asked. “Who assigned you here?”

“I am One of Four, Primary Assimilation Detail,” said the Borg. “My assignment is humanoid assimilation, specializing in battle drones. This specimen is large and will possess exceptional strength when the enhancements are complete.” Chakotay groaned and strained against the straps holding him to the table as a heavy boot snapped into place around his foot.

“May I assist?”

“Yes. Please select appropriately sized spinal clamps.” One of Four raised a hypospray to Chakotay’s neck, applied it, and watched as the man went limp. He loosened the restraints and rolled Chakotay onto his front. “I will make the incision.”

#

Meanwhile, Janeway stopped pacing around the sphere long enough to reenter the Queen’s chamber. When the screen reanimated, she asked, “Any word from Chakotay?”

“Too soon, Captain,” said the Queen. “When will you humans learn patience? It is a Borg virtue.”

“He will come for me,” Janeway said.

“Of course.”

As soon as Janeway left, the door closed again to allow Four of Six another private audience with the Queen. “I want constant scans for Voyager, Talaxians, or any of these irritating species that might try to prevent Janeway’s transition to Queen. Pick up any unfamiliar ships in the sector for search and interrogation. We can’t let her get away before I’ve absorbed her synaptic energy. It would do irreparable harm to the collective. And remember – she must transition willingly or the synaptic energy will be no use to us. The illusion must be maintained. I’m counting on you.”

“Acknowledged,” Four of Six said. He spun to resume tracking Janeway’s footsteps around the ship.

#

Three planets away, Voyager hovered in the shadow of a moon just beyond sensor range of the Borg sphere that held Janeway and Chakotay. Tuvok stood before one of the cells in the brig, watching an inebriated Veni wave an arm as if brandishing an invisible weapon. Vidi was beside him, shaking his head sadly.

“Where is my velkot? Why have you taken it? You have no right!” Veni cried, stumbling into the wall and slumping down.

“You were a danger to yourself and others carrying a weapon in your condition. It is safe and will be returned to you when you leave. My officers brought you to our ship because in your stupor you mentioned a human who matches the description of our former first officer, whom we had believed dead. We need all the information you have about his condition and location.”

“I’m waiting for … Vidi,” Veni mumbled, head down, half blinded by the amount of Selopat rum he’d consumed when he finally awoke from the blow Chakotay had given him and found an alehouse.

“I was there in the city,” said Vidi. Veni’s head rose a few inches. “Hello.”

“It’s you.”

“True!”

Tuvok’s communicator snapped to life. “We’re seeing a sudden increase in Borg patrols,” came Tom Paris’s voice from the bridge. “It’ll be tough to hide here much longer.”

“Acknowledged,” Tuvok said. “Maintain position for now and notify me immediately if we are detected.”

Veni smiled faintly at the sight of Vidi and collapsed onto the floor.

“Transporter room two,” Tuvok said as Vidi looked around the brig, mystified. “Immediate medical transport from Brig Cell One to Sick Bay.” Veni disappeared seconds later in a swirl of blue light as Vidi’s mouth fell open.

“What …”

“Your friend will be fine,” Tuvok said. “Follow me.”

By the time they arrived in Sick Bay, the Doctor had administered an antidote to Veni and had him sitting up sipping water. Veni shoved away the probe that the Doctor held close to his head. “Enough, I’m fine now!”

Tuvok's communicator spoke again. "I'm needed on the bridge," he said. "We will speak again soon." He left Veni and Vidi alone with the Doctor.

Vidi stepped forward and put a huge, soothing hand on his friend’s arm. “Veni, these people say the Borg have their captain now, in their sphere. We need to help them get her back.”

“From the Borg? How would we do that?”

“I could take out at least ten. They don’t adapt well to physical combat.”

“Even with this crew, we could never take out so many Borg.” Veni collapsed back onto the biobed. “At my best, I couldn’t defeat them. I need Vici to plan. I have no gift for strategy.”

“Vici took his ship and ran away after he woke up. He’s parsecs from here by now. We’re on our own.”

Veni covered his face with his hands for a long moment, then sat up with renewed urgency. “Wait – no – not Vici – I need the man in black.”

“What?”

“Look, he beat you with strength. He beat me and my indomitable velkot. He must have outwitted Vici, and a man who can do that can beat the Borg any day. Let’s go!”

“Where?”

“To find the man in black, of course!” Veni rushed to the door as the Doctor protested loudly that he wasn’t well enough.

Vidi lingered near the biobed. “But we don’t know where to look.”

“Don’t bother me with logistics. With the resources of this ship we can search everywhere! Where is the bridge?"

TBC


	8. Silly human

Two of Six approached Four of Six where he stood outside the Queen’s chamber waiting for Janeway. “We’ve cleared the area and thirty Borg guard this sphere.”

“Double it,” said Four of Six. “Janeway must be safe.”

“This sector has only one code and it’s integrated in only one drone’s memory – m-mine.” Two of Six stuttered this last word, unaccustomed to personal pronouns.

“Janeway!” they heard the Queen exclaim. “The ascension ceremony takes place at midnight. We’re broadcasting the happy news on all subspace frequencies so that the entire Delta quadrant will know and fear you.”

“All subspace frequencies except those you’re using to send the message to Chakotay, you mean,” Janeway said.

Briefly, the Queen only blinked. Then realization transformed her face.

“Yes, yes of course. Naturally, except for those, which are busy every second.”

Janeway stared at the Queen. “You never sent the message. Don’t bother lying. It doesn’t matter. Chakotay will still come for me.”

The Queen smirked. “Silly human.”

Janeway stepped closer to the monitor where the Queen's face appeared so that she could speak in a low, dangerous voice audible only to the Queen. “I am a silly human, for making any kind of deal with the Borg. I should have known that you’re nothing but liars and murderers.”

“I wouldn’t say such things if I were you,” said the Queen. Two and Four of Six advanced menacingly behind Janeway.

“Why not? You can’t hurt me. Chakotay and I are linked by bonds of love. You can’t assimilate that. Not with all the nanoprobes on this sphere. And you can’t destroy it, not with all your devastating weapons. And when I say that you’re a liar and a murderer, it’s because you’re the most repulsive weakling I’ve encountered in a quadrant full of them.”

At the Queen’s nod, Two and Four of Six seized Janeway from behind by her hair, arms, and legs and carried her struggling from the chamber to a cell a short distance down the corridor where they threw her on the floor and slammed the door shut. As soon as the door stifled her cries, they marched toward the assimilation chamber where Chakotay lay in agony, his back cut open to allow insertion of spinal clamps. Four of Six leaned in close to his terrified face.

“You truly love each other, so you might have been truly happy. Not one couple in a century has that chance, no matter what the legends say. So I think no one in a century will suffer as much in assimilation as you.” Four of Six yanked out the anesthetic tubule in Chakotay’s neck and snatched up the nearest spinal clamp as Chakotay roared in even greater pain than before. With flaring nostrils, Four of Six began to insert the spinal clamps one by excruciating one, without anesthetic. As the torture proceeded, Chakotay’s scream exceeded the capacity of the assimilation chamber to contain suffering and began to penetrate the rest of the sphere. The Queen heard it and smiled. Janeway, in her cell, heard it and put her hands to her ears to try to block it out. Aboard Voyager, Veni turned to Vidi as the turbolift raced them toward the bridge.

“Do you hear that?” he said.

Vidi shook his head. “Hear what?”

“Maybe it’s just me. You know that Selopats have a kind of telepathy, especially where suffering is concerned. I just heard the death cry of the Man in Black. Wherever he is, it’s not far, and he’s in ultimate suffering right now. The Borg are assimilating his true love. I know it. We have to find him now!”

The turbolift doors opened and Veni charged onto the bridge. Tuvok, standing in front of the captain’s chair, turned to face the intruder.

“You do not have permission - ” Tuvok began.

“No time!” Veni cried. “I can find your human, and your captain too! Full speed toward that orbiting Borg sphere!”

TBC


	9. I'm not a miracle worker

With a nod from Tuvok, Tom Paris sped his hands across the navigational console. An instant later, Voyager was a flash of light en route to the sphere, caution thrown aside. 

“All hands - battle stations,” Tuvok ordered. “Veni, Vidi, and Harry, you’re with me on the away team. Lieutenant Paris, you have the conn. We’ll beam aboard using the rotating shield frequency jammer B’Elanna developed, then you will retreat out of tractor range and wait for our signal.”

“It won’t take the Borg long to figure out where we are now that they know we’re still in the neighborhood,” Tom said.

Tuvok paused at the door of the turbolift. “We will have only minutes. You must think first of the crew.”

“Aye aye,” Tom said in a wistful voice, as if he might be seeing Tuvok and Harry for the last time.

The away team hurried to the transporter room. Within seconds they’d materialized in an empty Borg corridor. Tuvok raised his tricorder in one hand and a round device in the other. “With this I can penetrate Borg force fields and deflect Borg attacks – but only once every 70 seconds. It takes that long to calculate a new breach in their algorithms. We must be stealthy. Veni, can you guide us to the captain and the commander?”

Veni shut his eyes. “Father,” he said. “I’ve failed you all these years. Now there is someone nearby who can help. I need your spirit to sharpen my senses and guide my mind to him. Please, Father.” He raised his velkot and began to turn in a circle. Before he’d gone round a full 360 degrees, the velkot lodged at an angle in the opposite wall, raising sparks from the circuitry. Veni’s eyes blinked open. “He is two levels down, in that direction. He isn’t far. But we have to hurry. He’s nearly dead.”

The team charged down the corridor, B’Elanna’s jamming device leading them. Twice they paused, flattened against the wall, as Borg passed by, but none of the drones looked their way. At last they arrived at the doorway into an assimilation chamber where a large drone lay face down on a table, immobile. Everyone stared, unwilling to believe it was Chakotay. Finally Vidi stepped forward and rolled the drone onto its back. The face, mottled with implants and disfigured by a mechanical eye, was Chakotay’s. Harry gasped in horror when he noticed the adaptable claw that had replaced Chakotay’s left hand.

“He’s assimilated,” Vidi said. “He just hasn’t been activated yet.”

“It’s not fair!” Veni cried and fell to his knees beside the table.

“Wait.” Tuvok stepped forward. “We may still be able to revive him. He’s not linked to the collective yet.” From a pouch at his waist he removed a small metallic object and tapped a few tiny buttons on its surface. Seconds later the Doctor appeared, looking indignant at his surroundings.

“Do you know what would happen if the Borg get their hands on the technology in my mobile emitter?” he scolded Tuvok.

“It was a risk I had to take,” Tuvok answered. “Please, see if you can revive Commander Chakotay. We need his help.”

The Doctor looked at the drone. “This – this is the work of days. Weeks! Don’t you remember how long it took me to restore Seven to full human function? I may be brilliant but I’m not a miracle worker. It - ”

“Doctor,” Tuvok interrupted. “We have very little time.”

“What makes you think he’ll be on our side if I revive him? He left the ship – abandoned the crew! Why not just leave him to the Borg?” The Doctor stepped up to Chakotay’s side and gave him a distasteful poke. He leaned over the drone. “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t leave you here simmering in nanoprobes.”

No one expected an answer, but after a few seconds Chakotay’s lips parted and a few rasping syllables came out, difficult to distinguish. Veni rushed forward. 

“True love, you heard him. That’s why we have to save him. The Borg are forcing his true love to become their queen.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “That would be a nice fairy tale if he really had said true love. But what he said was Drunuv, the local name for the moon we’ve been hiding behind. He’s telling us to get out of here, which is exactly what we should do right now.”

Harry stepped forward. “No, I heard it too. He said true love. I always thought there was more between him and the captain than they let on. He came back for her. Don’t you see?”

The Doctor’s eyes moved to Tuvok, who gave an impassive nod. “Oh all right,” he said in exasperation. “Guard the door and I’ll see what I can do.”

TBC


End file.
